


paws and puns

by dantes_wombat



Series: Malec prompt fills [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, The fluffiest fluff, also actual post-wedding fic, bickering like an old married couple, since writing 'husband' instead of 'boyfriend' is the Best Thing Ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 21:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantes_wombat/pseuds/dantes_wombat
Summary: A dark night, heavy rain, and a drenched Alec at Magnus' front door with the urgent need to tell him something important. Really, how bad could it be?





	paws and puns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThymekeNerada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymekeNerada/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a mini prompt fill but it turned into nearly 6000 words of pure self-indulgence. Still counts as a birthday fic for [ThymekeNerada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymekeNerada), who basically requested the summary (but no mpreg! ;D) Hope you enjoy!

Outside, it’s pouring from a dark sky covered by massive clouds. Grey sheets of rain keep being pushed against the windows by strong gusts of icy wind. It’s the perfect weather to be exactly where Magnus is right now – in his loft. He has just put on one of his favourite records, filled the room with warm cozy light and chosen a book to match his glass of red wine, when there’s a low thump from the hallway, like somebody kicking against his front door without using too much force.

Magnus, halfway on his way to the sofa, frowns. His wards aren’t detecting any signs of unwelcome intruders, which leaves a very short list of people who could be here at this hour. Most of which, including Alec, should be on patrol until early morning. Ignoring the slight twinge of worry in his gut, he banishes his glass back to the kitchen counter and hurries towards the door.

It opens at a snap of his fingers, and reveals a truly miserable-looking Alec. His hair is plastered to his forehead, rivulets of water running down his face. His jacket – which seems to be about three sizes bigger than the one he left the apartment with, Magnus notes in confusion – is soaked through, sticking to Alec’s shivering form.

Magnus is about to ask why he didn’t simply use his key to let himself him, or at least knock like a normal person, when he notices that Alec’s hands are busy. Busy supporting a huge, round bump underneath his jacket where his flat stomach used to be.

He distinctly feels the blood drain from his face.

“Alexander, what…?”

Alec, teeth worrying at his lower lip, hesitates before meeting his eyes. Then he blurts out, “There’s something I need to tell you!”

 _No shit_ , Magnus thinks, followed by _maybe I should’ve aired out the fumes from that potion more thoroughly today._

Numbly, he steps aside and waves Alec through, shocked speechless. If this turns out to be real and not a hallucination, he can think of at least 37 terrible ways it could’ve happened, all of them involving demonic possession and the darkest of dark magic.

Alec strides into the living room wordlessly, Magnus following close on his heels, and carefully crouches down on the fluffy living room carpet. He opens the zipper of his jacket – and spilling out comes a gangly, floppy-eared puppy with giant paws.

“…it’s a dog,” Magnus says faintly. He cannot remember the last time he felt such dread followed so closely by immense relief. His brain is about to get whiplash.

Sadly, the relief is short-lived. After tumbling over itself in a knot of limbs, the puppy sits up, takes a moment to assess the situation, and promptly proceeds to shake the wetness out of its fur. It’s impressive how even short fur can contain such an amount of water, Magnus notes with mild horror. Dark splotches are already forming on his carpet, the armchair, and the sofa.

Alec, who has raised protective hands in front of his face as if it could possibly get any wetter, at least looks a bit guilty. It doesn’t deter him from meeting his husband’s disapproving stare head-on and say the last words Magnus wants to hear.

“She’s gonna be living with us from now on.”

Magnus is sure that he’s detecting at least some hesitation in Alec’s voice, but it’s mostly drowned out by the stubborn determination he usually admires, and is absolutely dreading in this moment. He knows without a doubt that there is no way of changing Alec’s mind. For some reason, this puppy has been accepted as His Responsibility, for better or worse. There’s only one thing Magnus can say, really.

“But Alexander…I’m a cat person!”

 

Alec has the audacity to roll his eyes at that, though fondly.

“Obviously. Still, you’re four hundred years old – you must’ve had a dog at some point?”

“This might surprise you but no, I haven’t. My devotion to the feline kind of pet is 100% true and always has been. Well, there was this one time with a monkey, but-“

The dog, probably displeased with the lack of everybody’s undivided attention, barks at him. A loud, impudent kind of bark that makes Magnus flinch even though he’s towering above her tiny frame. Pursing his lips, he looks at her and let’s his real eyes flash through.

With a yelp and wildly flailing limbs, the puppy rears back, scrambling to hide behind Alec. 

He’d feel bad about it, if it weren’t so absolutely hilarious.

Alec, arms already wrapping protectively around the dog while he glares at Magnus, does not share his amusement.

“Don’t scare her! She’s been through a lot.”

Ah great, a tragic backstory. Good thing he’s absolutely immune to those. “Has she?”

“Yeah...We’d been getting reports from vampires encountering Shax demons close to the Hotel Dumort, so tonight we went to investigate. Cornered and killed a few of them in some backyard, but we’re still no closer to finding out who’s sending them and why. Anyway, after the demons were gone we heard noises from a dark corner, something clattering around in trashcan. Isabelle was close to just cutting the whole thing apart with her whip, but luckily we decided to take a look inside first.”

“Let me guess – hiding inside was little pupper here?”

Alec nods. “She was terrified, just…shaking and crying. Somebody must've wanted to get rid of her.”

Magnus sighs. “So you decided to just stuff her into your jacket, garbage-fur and all?”

“No, actually this is Ashdown’s jacket…”

“Ah.” Magnus dimly remembers a Shadowhunter so broad and tall he had to duck and walk sideways to get through a generously sized doorway.

“Why not take her to the Institute?”

Alec raises his eyebrows at him. “Have you ever seen pets at an Institute?”

Magnus shrugs. “What about the grouchy cat I’ve seen lurking in the hallways?”

“Church is special. His vet records go back to the 19th century…I’m sure my parents would’ve given him to a mundane shelter years ago if they hadn’t suspected him of being immortal and collecting Clave secrets.”

“Hm.” Magnus could mention that he knows exactly who Church is and where he came from, but he has other priorities right now. “So why don’t your people keep pets?”

“Well, we did. Still do, to a certain extent. You know the richer families keep horses in Idris. There used to be war hounds a few centuries ago, but according to the history books they never lasted long against demons, so people stopped breeding them at some point. And I guess most of us just don’t keep animals...for fun?” His eye twitches as if he’s trying to imagine some of his colleagues doing anything solely for fun and well, Magnus isn’t successful either. Most Shadowhunters he knows are still such a dreary bunch.

“Still, you’re Head of the Institute...just decide that she’ll stay there and be done with it. Who knows, you might start a trend.”

“Sorry but...I can’t do that. If I allow one dog at the Institute, everyone should have the right to bring one, and the place is chaotic enough as it is.”

There’s no arguing against this, Magnus supposes. The Nephilim might be warriors born and bred, but he’s been present for enough crises at the Institute to be aware that when faced with unexpected situations, the place turns into a hive full of rather dumb and disoriented bees. Except for Alec and (most of) his family, of course, who are among the most capable Shadowunters he’s met so far. Magnus might be slightly biased in this regard.

“So,” Alec continues, “the only viable reason to have her there would be training her to fight demons. And since one of her legs isn’t quite right, I can’t really imagine doing that to her. It might get better, but our medic had a look at her outside and he thinks it’s a birth defect.”

He’s let the dog down so she can explore her surroundings a bit, and now that Magnus is looking for it, there sure seems to be a slightly weird tilt to her gait. She’s still moving slowly and carefully, circling both of them once until she comes to a stop in front of Magnus with a hesitant tail wag.

 _Oh no_ , Magnus thinks faintly. The puppy is looking at him with big, sad brown eyes, ears drooping. She looks remarkably like Alec, who’s basically making the same face right behind her. He tries to imagine this dumb little creature living among a crowd of warriors who’d only care about her efficiency in battle, and fails.

“All right, she can stay – but! On one condition: we keep looking for someone willing to take her in. This is a temporary solution, understand?”

He barely manages to finish the sentence before he finds himself with an armful of – very damp and very cold – Alec, who in turn has an armful of very cold and very damp puppy, probably to make sure she isn’t squished between them. Alec kisses him fully on the mouth, which would be reasonably nice despite all the dampness, if not for the dog desperately trying to get a lick at Magnus’ face as well.

“Thank you,” Alec breathes, beaming at him, and seriously, how could Magnus ever deny him anything? He’s doomed. Feeling suddenly bad for not thinking of it earlier, he casts a quick drying spell over all three of them. It rushes through the room like a warm gust of desert wind, also taking care of the carpet and all affected furniture.

“I’ll just go have a quick shower, change into something else. Be back in ten,” Alec says and hands him the dog before he can utter a word of protest. Now warm and comfortable, the puppy immediately turns limp in his arms, eyes already dropping.

 _Catarina should have a look at that leg of yours_ , he thinks, a bit suprised by how easily the dog seems to trust him even after that little scare. Some random Nephilim field medic might not be able to help her, but maybe an experienced warlock healer could.

Magnus turns his head to find his cat perched atop the back of the couch, staring at him in silent accusation.

“It’s not my fault!” he tells the Chairman, who just gets up, both head and tail high in the air, and traipses off to one of his hideouts in the apartment where no-one will ever find him. 

 

 

When Alec returns from his shower, barefoot and wearing only boxers and a soft t-shirt, Magnus is already on his laptop googling dog-owning equipment. The puppy is curled up on the carpet at his feet, snoring softly.

Curiosity quipped, Alec drapes himself over Magnus’ shoulders and watches him browse. “You’re not wasting any time.”

Magnus hums. “If we’re taking this whole adoption thing seriously we need to be prepared, don’t you think?”

Turns out that even a warlock’s fortune could easily be spent on everything responsible dog parents should, allegedly, buy. Though Alec is slightly overwhelmed, they manage to decide on a bunch of necessities that Magnus purchases and transports to the loft with a swirl of magic. It helps that Magnus has already gone through, and regretted, the experience of impulse-buying a whole webshop for the Chairman.

“Now, we still need a leash, and...”

His scrolling stops at a dark blue collar with little rhinestones on it.

“Hm, this would suit her, don’t you think? Look at the shade of her fur.”

They both notice in the same instant that the dog is no longer below the table, but further away on the carpet, pivoting slowly. Magnus, while not an expert on canine body language, has directed enough disapproval at dog owners in front of his own apartment to know what this means. He gasps in alarm, loudly.

But Alec – Shadowhunter reflexes be thanked – is already there to pick up the puppy. Holding her in front of him like a bomb that might go off any second, he makes a beeline for the front door.

“You could’ve just cleaned up after her magically,” Alec grumbles when he’s back inside, wet again and probably disgruntled that the neighbors might’ve seen him stand around half-naked on the tiny patch of greenery around the corner.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, and you should be grateful for it,” Magnus replies calmly while sending another drying spell through the room, and continues to read the third article he’s found on the topic of house-training dogs. 

 

Half an hour later, a cozy niche of the living room has been equipped with two ceramic bowls on a tasteful wooden pedestal and a doggy bed that is about four times the size of the actual dog, since her paws promise an enormous growth spurt in the near future. Five minutes ago, one of the bowls had still been filled with the best dog food Magnus could summon, until the little monster nearly knocked him over in her haste to shredder anything she could get her slobbering mouth on. It left Magnus pondering whether he would need to add another storage room just to quench her daily appetite.

An hour later, he’s slumbering peacefully in his bed, Alec a snoring mountain of blankets beside him, when there’s a pitiful yowl from the hallway, followed by the distinct sound of little claws dragging over wood. Magnus is awake instantly, listening with growing trepidation.

The yowling comes again, even more pitiful this time, trailing off into a persistent whine. Magnus sighs. He could simply soundproof the room with a little magic, but that wouldn’t solve the issue that their new housemate is, apparently, suffering.

Time to pass the problem on to the one responsible, then.

“Alexander?”

No reaction.

“Alexander?!” A bit louder this time, with the desired effect. A low grunt indicates that he’s finally been heard.

“Alec, make her stop!”

The reply is muffled, but audible. “What do you want me to do? She’s not sleeping in here, and I’m definitely not sleeping out there. She’ll just have to get used to it.” 

After rescuing her and bringing her in in such a dramatic fashion, anybody else would surely have spent the night with the puppy, comforting her in the living room. But if Magnus knows on thing about Alec, it's that he turns into a grumpy old man whenver his sleep schedule is threatened, and that he would never again voluntarily sleep anywhere but in this bed. Magnus has a sudden premonition of how this whole dog-owning thing might go down with the two of them. Alec, while a big softy on the inside, would insist on discipline and strict rules for her training, because that's what he was used to. And Magnus, reluctant puppy owner but adopter of strays by conviction, would be the one who couldn’t remain strict in the face of huge sad eyes and heart-wrenching noises. The one who’d slip her treats from the dining table while Alec wasn’t looking, a habit he hated in other people when his cat was involved.

Still, he's curios where this will go, and it's not like there's much he can do about it right now.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind. The Chairman sleeps on our bed all the time. We could just let her in, tonight, and get her used to having her own bed in here tomorrow.”

There’s only silence under Blanket Mountain, until an answering noise from the door strongly implies that a whole puppy-body has just thrown itself against it.

“Oh my God, fine,” Alec relents, emerging from the depths with his hair sticking up wildly, “but only this once!”

‘In here’ doesn’t turn out to be their bedroom, as Magnus had intended, but their bed. He wants to get a bit mad when the puppy doesn’t even waste a second before hurtling herself onto, and then under, the blankets as soon as the door is open wide enough to let her through. But Alec settles back down as well, and Magnus’ eyes are perfectly suited for seeing in the dark, especially when he’s relaxed enough that the glamour comes off. The dog is on her back, paws up and eyes already closed blissfully – perhaps because Alec is on his side with a hand resting on her belly.

It’s so cute that he makes an involuntary noise in his throat, and the puppy’s reaction is immediate.

Her eyes snap open and meet Magnus’ golden ones, which, to make things worse, are probably reflecting the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Mayhem ensues. There’s an awfully loud bark, then Magnus gets a faceful of puppy. He still registers a wide-eyed Alec rolling out of bed and dropping into a combat stance, seraph dagger appearing out of nowhere. The whole thing is so comical he barely manages to pry her off through snorts of laughter.

 

 

The next morning, neither Magnus nor Alec feel like they’ve managed to catch more than thirty minutes of uninterrupted sleep. There’s a purplish bruise on Alec’s leg where the puppy has kicked him, and Magnus keeps feeling the tickle of imaginary dog hair on his face. He’s morose and irritable but heals the bruise anyway while Alec is busy making coffee. The caffeine rush still isn’t enough to keep Alec’s head from nodding down towards his plate three times during breakfast, which he follows up with sheepish sips from his cup. Magnus, half-hidden behind his morning paper, is greatly entertained but acts like he doesn’t notice anything. That is, until the puppy herself – who’d been fast asleep on their bed when they’d gotten up, the sleep thief – comes traipsing into the room. She bows down into a deep stretch, yawning widely, before eyeing them both.

Magnus can basically see the gears turning in her little head when her gaze locks onto his face, as if waiting for the cat-eyes to make an appearance. He opens his mouth to address Alec only to find that he’s dozed off again, head dangling over his coffee. It’s too tempting by far, even though he knows he shouldn’t. The dog is staring at him contemplatively and Magnus can’t help it – he drops his glamour, just for a second.

He nearly regrets it when one of his favourite little sugar cups goes flying due to Alec’s flailing hands, but it’s nothing a well-placed spell won’t be able to fix.

After the table’s been mostly cleared and all damage repaired, they decide that a list of rules is the best way of avoiding more sleepless nights (as well as Magnus’ vision of their dog-training future, but he doesn’t mention that). With a little wave, he summons a sheet of paper and a fountain pen which hovers expectantly between them.

“Just dictate what you’d like to put down,” Magnus explains and, already eager to set his most important rule in stone, demonstrates.

\- _No soiling the loft just because it can be cleaned magically. Magic is not for mundane tasks._ Also, that carpet had cost him a fortune and he was in no mood to clean unspeakable things out of it.

“You use your magic for mundane tasks all the time,” Alec interrupts, looking pointedly at the pen floating on nothing but thin air.

“I do not,” Magnus replies with great dignity, before summoning himself another latte as soon as Alec’s attention is back on the list.

\- _No feeding her from the table_ , Alec writes. Next to his leg, the puppy is staring up at them with wide eyes, nose sniffing their breakfast smells eagerly.

“Reasonable,” Magnus says, while dropping a bit of leftover cheese.

\- _No replacing Chairman Meow as the rightful Lord and Owner of the loft_ , he adds.

\- _Sleeping next to the bed is fine, on the bed isn’t_ , they wholeheartedly agree on.

This goes on for about an hour, Magnus providing most of the entries until the page is almost full.

“So, what else should go on the list?”

Alec thinks for a minute, then shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know? Are you telling me that Alexander ‘The Law’ Lightwood has nothing else to add to our puppy-raising rulebook?”

He’s just teasing, of course. Nothing delights him more than the 'fuck the rules' attitude Alec’s been showing him more and more of recently. Maybe last night wasn't such a benchmark, after all.

“Lightwood-Bane,” Alec corrects automatically, and smiles at the way it lights up his husband’s face. “Maybe…enough toys?”

Magnus snorts. “ _Enough toys?_ Okay, let me turn this into something sensible.” The pen starts scribbling again, until the next line is fixed on paper.

- _Enough toys so the puppy is not tempted to chew on Magnus’ furniture instead._

Strictly speaking it’s their furniture now, but old habits die hard, especially when the structural integrity of said furniture is threatened.

With the page now full, they declare their dog adoption manual finished. Underneath the last point, there’s one line squished in Alec’s narrow handwriting: _No barking just to scare Alec!_

Magnus pins the list to the fridge, whistling innocently. 

 

In the middle of inspecting another pile of equipment Magnus has spontaneously bought and summoned during breakfast preparations, they happen upon a yellow puddle on the hallway floor. Apparently, ‘around noon’ is not the proper time for a baby dog’s first walk of the day. While Alec is off to take a shower, Magnus busies himself with a mental list of people he’d enjoy sending puppy pee to. He decides on an elitist old ifrit who’d refused to sell him any of his goods after Magnus had been voted out of the High Warlock’s office. With a finger snip and a highly satisfied smile, the puddle is sent on its way to a new owner.

There’s some sort of commotion behind him, and Magnus turns to the entertaining sight of a fully grown Shadowhunter trying to catch and hold still a very fast puppy. Taking obvious joy in Alec’s attention, she manages to avoid his grasping hands for nearly five minutes, darting in-between his long legs – an impressive feat, though Magnus suspects that Alec is having too much fun with this to earnestly try. With a lolling tongue, she eventually flops down and let’s Alec put the new collar on her.

When he moves to fasten a leash to it, Magnus frowns. “What are you doing?”

Alec glances up. “Going for a walk?”

“Not with the collar, you aren’t – it’s bad for her neck.” He summons the stylish burgundy harness whose selection took him nearly an hour and hands it over. “Here you go.”

Looking skeptical, Alec crouches down and does his best to put the overly complicated thing on the flailing, over-enthused dog.

“Maybe you’d like to take her for a walk, if you know so much about it,” he huffs after a few minutes, a faint sheen of sweat already visible on his forehead.

Magnus strongly suspects that the harness is upside down, but shakes his head anyway. The weather outside is abysmal. “Absolutely not. She’s your dog – you’re walking her.”

So he does, and while Alec’s out, Magnus installs an improvised piece of magically self-cleaning lawn on the balcony. Cannot hurt to try. 

 

 

Naturally, word of their new housemate travels fast. Barely two days pass until the crew – as Magnus likes to call them in his head – is all there sitting in a circle on the living room floor, all madly in love with the puppy.

Magnus and Alec are leaning against opposite sides of the same brick column, watching the proceedings with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

To nobody’s surprise, Simon instantly turns into a little kid when he catches sight of the dog, crouching down in front of her with vampire speed. She seems a bit skeptical at first – taken aback by the lack of an audible heartbeat and an ‘alive’ smell, Magnus supposes – but gets over it quickly after inspecting Simon’s outstretched hand thoroughly.

Jace mostly looks mystified and a bit reluctant to get closer to the dog, at least until Clary picks her up and starts a drawn-out cuddling session, at which Jace’s face lights up immediately. Magnus suspects his hesitation might have something to do with those gruesome childhood stories of his Clary had mentioned once. Shadowhunters and pets, indeed.

Maia shows up thirty minutes after the others, and is immediately adopted as part of the puppy’s pack. “Guess you’re not afraid of wolves, little one,” she notes while the dog nibbles playfully at her fingers.

Isabelle, big bad Nephilim warrior that she is, cannot seem to stop cooing at the puppy.

“Aaww she’s so cute! Have you decided on a name yet?”

Magnus looks at Alec, who shrugs.

“Uhm…not yet, no,” Magnus replies. “But I have a long history of finding brilliant names for pets – I’m sure I’ll think of something soon. If we even keep her long enough, that is.”

She smiles somewhat knowingly at that, turning back to the dog.

Next to him, Alec clears his throat. “What kind of names?”

“Oh, well…you know Chairman Meow. Then before him, there was the Great Catsby-“

“No.”

“What do you mean, No?”

“You’re not naming the dog.”

Magnus splutters. “Excuse me-“

“Why don’t we just think of a few names right now and have a vote on which one suits her best?”

“I’m not having _a bunch of Shadowhunters and a vampire_ voting on the name of our dog!” He registers the look of surprise on Alec’s face at the word _our_ – which he definitely hadn’t intended to use – but it’s too late to take it back now. “If she’s going to live here, she’s getting her name from me! Or, you know, you. With my right to veto it.”

They’ve lowered their voices to avoid the group’s attention, but naturally Simon is overhearing every word. He glances up questioningly and mouths something that looks suspiciously like _Votes for vampires!_ in their direction, making Alec grin until there’s an impatient swat at his arm.

“Alright, fine!” Alec hisses.

“Fine!” Magnus hisses back, and that’s the end of that discussion for the day, mostly because there are some retching noises and sudden puppy puke all over Magnus' beloved carpet. Some of if gets on Jace’s shoes and jeans as well, visibly making him reconsider the dog’s cuteness. 

 

 

Over the following week, they fall into a continuously improving routine. ‘Accidents’ in the loft happen less and less, until they can finally declare the puppy house-trained (or balcony-lawn-trained, Magnus proudly notes). Their bed is strictly off-limits, but the dog is content with sleeping on her own blanket next to it, plus occasional naps on the couch. An ideal amount of daily nutrition is found that leaves her neither begging for more nor puking or lying around in a food-induced coma. Alec dutifully walks her before leaving for and after returning from the Institute, while Magnus secretely enjoys interrupting his daily work for cuddling breaks and coming up with new puppy-entertainment.

One notable day, Alec already has his bow up in the hallway before his brain catches up and he realizes that the Shax demon skittering towards him is, in fact, just an enchanted stuffed lobster. The dog tears it to pieces in front of his eyes, which strengthens Magnus in his conviction that with a little help, she might get over her first demon encounter more easily than expected.

Even Chairman Meow discovers that, while undoubtedly dumb and annoying and not deserving of his humans’ attention, a big puppy is also very warm and comfortable to sleep on. The first time Magnus finds them like that, he snaps a picture and sends it to Alec, who interrupts his inner-circle meeting to show the photo around to a chorus of _aaawwws_. 

At the end of that first week, Alec is on on his way home on foot, already catching some air after a long day of too much paperwork and nagging Shadowhunter underlings complaining about this and that. He has nearly managed to reach the safe haven of the loft when something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Walking hurriedly toward him with his eyes fixed on a silver pocket watch is Magnus. And he’s not alone. Galloping along besides him on her still short legs is their puppy.

“What are you doing?” he asks loudly, making sure to use the same judgmental tone Magnus did that first time Alec attempted to take her for a walk.

Magnus jerks his head up, looking caught. His eyes flick to the dog, then back to his husband, clearly lost for words.

“...well. Me and Betty Barklay here were just-“ he breaks off at Alec’s wince.

“Oh come on, it’s brilliant! Because of the bark-“

Alec interrupts him with a raised hand. “I’m perfectly capable of understanding a pun, thank you, even if I might not know who or what Betty Barclay is.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows at him as if to say _hit a nerve there, huh?_ “You could just call her Betty if you like?” he suggests in a diplomatic tone. “I mean, you’ve got to admit it’s not a bad name for a dog, and it suits her!”

To demonstrate, he bows down to address the puppy, who’s already doing her little tail-wagging-dance.

“Heeey Betty!” More delighted wagging. “See, she already recognizes her name!”

“You could just call her ‘refrigerator’ in that same tone and she’d still respond, it’s how they’re wired.”

Magnus shoots him a venomous look. “For someone who wanted to keep her so desperately in the first place, you’re being terribly rational about the whole thing now.”

Alec shrugs this off, unimpressed. “ _Anyway_ , let’s get back to the point – you’re walking her in secret, just so I won't know you're actually enjoying this? Very mature.”

Magnus grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, but can’t hold back a sheepish smile when Alec bumps a shoulder against his. They cover the remaining distance side by side, Betty scouting the sidewalk just in front of them.

“Why didn’t you just portal back if you didn’t want me to see?”

“She’s not ready yet. We tried it once and it made her puke. I know, I know, don’t look at me like that, I feel bad enough about it already.”

“Why don’t we finally agree that she’s our dog, and take turns walking her?”

Magnus hums agreeably, but adds “Only if we walk her together on weekends.”

“Deal.”

“Also, her name’s Betty Barklay. Isn’t it? Alexaaander?”

There’s a deeply put-out sigh before Alec nods, but it’s only an act. 

 

As they’re approaching the door on Magnus’ floor, he tilts his head as if listening to something.

“I think we’ve got visitors.”

They step inside and are immediately met by a small girl with flying brown hair storming towards them – or rather, towards the dog. While usually he and Alec used to be at the absolute center of Madzie’s attention, they now come a very distant second place, much to Alec’s chagrin. Behind Madzie, Catarina comes into view, looking relaxed with a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

“Sorry for intruding, but we thought you wouldn’t mind us waiting inside.”

Magnus greets her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Of course not.” They silently watch Madzie and Betty play for a few minutes; the little warlock has summoned up a swarm of colourful magical butterflies for the dog to catch. After a greeting wave, Alec crouches down next to them. For some reason, Magnus can't shake the feeling that Cat is here to tell them something important.

“So, is this a social call or was there something you needed?”

“Actually, we’ve got good news for you. There’s a very nice mundane family in the apartment next to ours – both parents and their kids have the Sight, so we’ve been meeting them regularly since they moved in. Yesterday, the mum told us that they’re planning to adopt a puppy.”

Magnus freezes. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alec doing the same.

“Oh,” Magnus says eventually. “That’s…great. And a lot faster than expected.”

Cat ignores his apparent lack of enthusiasm. “We thought so, yeah! Think about it – Madzie and I could keep an eye on her, make sure she’s happy with her new family. And every now and then we’d dogsit her, so you could come over to say hi. It’s a much better solution than giving her to strangers.”

Magnus has to concede that that’s true, so he nods.

He looks over at Alec, who’s now cross-legged on the floor, hands gently cradling the puppy on his lap. Betty keeps stretching upwards in a futile attempt to lick his nose, with Madzie cheering her on. Hair is falling into his down-turned face so Magnus can’t fully see his expression, but the whole image is so heart-warming and heart-wrenching at the same time that he feels a sharp pull in his chest.

He takes in the living room, and how Betty’s presence has changed it. Magnus has a knack for letting things drop where he stands, and sometimes all available surfaces are covered in books or magical artifacts, but at the end of the day he likes everything back in its place.

Now, there are at least five different types of dog toys strewn across the floor, accompanied now and then by one of his or Alec’s socks that were somehow removed from their place in the drawer. The floor around Betty’s bowls is covered in crumbs that she must’ve overlooked while her face was stuck as far into her food as it would go. Three secluded corners – and probably more that Magnus can’t see right now – harbor a dog basket or at least a blanket, since one place to sleep at just didn’t seem enough for her.

It looks chaotic and familiar, and just right in a way Magnus couldn’t have imagined a week ago. Even the Chairman seems comfortable, asleep on the back of the couch and in no way disturbed by the mess (or its cause).

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “I appreciate your help, but we can’t.”

Catarina studies his face for a moment then nods, a wry smile on her lips. “I can’t say I didn’t expect this. In fact, my first reply to your text was-”

“‘You won’t be able to give her away,’ I know, I know. You were right, as always.”

He walks over to where Alec and Madzie have turned to a game of keep-the-ball-away-from-the-puppy that has Betty running back and forth between them, and sits down. Even though she immediately stumbles against Magnus’ legs, Betty manages to catch the little ball out of the air before falling over, out of breath but happily chewing on her toy. Magnus draws his fingers through the soft fur but only gets as far as the middle of her back, where he's met by another hand wearing a silver ring identical to his own.

Their eyes meet, they smile at each other, and it’s all very sweet and sappy though Magnus might or might not be imagining the slight smugness on Alec’s face.


End file.
